CH1: A Familiar Fiction 

He stood there, feeling a strange weightlessness, like he was floating yet still anchored somehow. His bare feet tapped lightly against the surface beneath him. It didn't make sense. There was no visible floor. But something solid was under him. A barely-there pressure met the soles of his feet.

'What the hell is this?'

Instinctively, he rubbed his arms, as if trying to shake off the eerie sensation creeping over him. His skin was warm—too warm for a dream—and the rough texture of his shirt clung to him in a way that felt way too real. He wasn't wearing anything special, just the clothes he'd fallen asleep in, a simple T-shirt and loose pants.

'This… this can't be real.'

The dreamlike haze that fogged his mind moments ago cleared as panic crept in. This was all too real. Way too real.

Before he could process it further, a soft glow appeared in front of him, flickering as if trying to catch his attention.

[System Notification] 

Welcome.

Calvas blinked. 'What?' He took a hesitant step back, but the text stayed in front of him, hovering in mid-air. Another message followed, as sharp and clear as day.

[System Notification] 

You have been chosen.

His breath caught. 'Chosen? For what?'

A sinking feeling tugged at his gut, like a stone dragging him down into dark waters. Before he could react, more messages followed in rapid succession.

[System Notification]

You are being sent to a world you know.

Your role is to ensure events unfold as intended.

You will help maintain the course of this world.

'A world I know?' Calvas frowned. 'That doesn't make sense. I only know one world… my world.' He tried to wrap his head around the idea, but the phrasing felt wrong. What other world could it be? Alternate realities? Simulations? Nothing about this was making sense.

A panel blinked into existence before him. His name and personal details were laid out like a profile screen from a video game.

[Status Panel]

 Name: Calvas Zavala 

Age: 19 

Height: 5'10" 

Status: Normal 

Skills: N/A

Calvas stared at the screen, eyes wide as he took in the information. 'Was this seriously happening?'

He didn't get much time to process before another message snapped him out of his daze.

[System Notification] 

A random skill will now be assigned.

"What—?" Before he could react, a spinning wheel appeared. Its center glowed with dozens of names flashing by in rapid succession. They blurred past so quickly he could barely make them out. Temporal Displacement, Inferno Strike, Void Step….j

'Damn, those sound cool.' A small part of him couldn't help but get caught up in it.

'This isn't a game… I'm being thrown into a world. A real one.'

The wheel spun faster, names flashing in a blur, until it slowed and came to a stop.

[System Notification] 

You have received: Temporal Distortion.

'Temporal Distortion?' He frowned. It wasn't one of the flashy names he saw, but it didn't sound too bad.

But before he could explore that thought any further, the next message hit like a truck.

[System Notification] 

You are being sent to: My Hero Academia.

Calvas froze. His mind blanked for a solid second. 'Wait… what?!'

'No way. No... freaking way.' Villains, heroes, quirks... this was that world. But it didn't add up—it was fictional. He couldn't be sent there, right? It wasn't real.

[System Notification] Transferring host to designated world…

His eyes widened in panic. "Wait, transferring what—"

[System Error] Host identified as unsuitable. Current biological age exceeds required parameters for integration into designated environment. Initiating corrective measures: De-aging protocol commencing...

'What the—? I'm not too ol—' His words cut off as the text blurred, the world around him flickering again. A wave of dizziness crashed over him. His limbs tingled, lighter, as if something inside him was shifting and warping.

Before he could even attempt to make sense of it, everything went white.

The world felt painfully cold when Calvas opened his eyes. He groaned, the rough pavement pressing into his back. "Where the hell…?" he muttered, dazed. He blinked, struggling to focus. The alley was foreign—dark, narrow, with towering brick walls on either side.

The distant sound of honking cars and chattering voices told him he was somewhere urban. The air was thick with the smell of exhaust and dampness. He pushed himself up with effort, his head spinning as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings.

'Okay… definitely not a dream.'

Calvas groaned as he staggered to his feet, his legs shaky beneath him. His bare feet hit the cold, hard pavement, and he winced at the sudden realization. He looked down at himself. His shirt and pants were wrinkled and creased from... whatever the hell he'd just gone through. He was barefoot. Disheveled.

He glanced around the alley. Shadows stretched into its dark, unlit depths. Overflowing trash bins lined the walls. A damp, musty smell hung in the air. It mixed with the distant aroma of street food from beyond the alley.

Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and forced his feet forward, heading for the mouth of the alley. 

He peered out cautiously. A bustling street greeted him. It was both familiar and alien. Neon signs flickered overhead, advertising products in Japanese characters he couldn't read. 

The street beyond wasn't crowded, but there were enough people milling around for him to make out a couple walking nearby. 'Okay, I just need to ask for help. Shouldn't be that hard, right?'

He stepped into their path, waving his hand in a gentle manner. "Hey, uh… excuse me, can you help me?"

They both stopped, the man turning to face him first. The woman beside him tightened her grip on the man's arm, her gaze wary. His expression shifted almost immediately—concern, caution, even pity. And then he spoke.

Not in English.

They exchanged glances before the woman murmured something to the man. She had delicate butterfly wings folded neatly against her back, shimmering with a gentle light.

Calvas's eyes flicked to her wings, captivated for a brief moment. 'She's got wings. Actual wings.'

The man noticed his stare and stepped in front of the woman, adopting a protective posture. He spoke again, his tone firmer, though still unintelligible.

Realizing how it must look—a barefoot man staring wide-eyed at them —Calvas raised his hands placatingly. "No, no, I didn't mean to— I just need some help."

The woman tugged the man's arm, whispering something as her eyes darted to Calvas's bare feet. They both took a step back, clearly uncomfortable.

"No, wait!" Calvas stammered; they didn't seem to understand. The man gestured for them to leave, and the woman nodded. Without another word, they hurried past him, their pace quickening.

He watched them go, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach.

'So much for that idea.'

He glanced down at his bare feet and bedraggled clothes again. He let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his forehead. This was going to be much harder than he thought 

⧫⧫⧫

+=-:<>[] Chapter 1: []<>:-=+

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